


What could go wrong?

by SailorYue



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: In which aziraphale figures out he may just be in love, M/M, Random & Short, contemptlation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 17:27:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19214125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorYue/pseuds/SailorYue
Summary: Short fic about what led Aziraphale to decide to give Crowley the thermos of holy water





	What could go wrong?

**Author's Note:**

> actually inspired by a dream, the other day I kept having the holy water scene on loop in a dream, I woke up and thought a minute. this is the result

Aziraphale paced around in circles in his bookshop. One might think he had been pacing for twenty-six years. One would be wrong, as there were times were Aziraphale DID have customers as well as the occasional heavenly duty to do. The more accurate measure would have been fifteen years, four hours and twenty-three minutes he had been pacing. The reasoning had been, Aziraphale was facing with an internal dilemma.

The dilemma being a request Crowley made of him in 1862. It had led to an argument between them, and Aziraphale had all but lost all contact with him. It was almost as if the demon had been avoiding him, which at the time the angel wasn't too put off about. He absolutely refused to assist in self destruction, even if Crowley insisted that that was not the intention.

 

But twenty-six years ago, during the Blitz, when Aziraphale nearly got discorporated by a handful of Nazi spies the demon himself risked his own being by running into the church to save him. He appreciated the rescue of course, but what stuck in his mind was that Crowley took the time, even under agony from being on the holy ground of the church, to make sure his books of prophecy survived the bombing. He didn't have to, just like how he didn't have to save him. Perhaps back at St James park he was too quick to judge the demon.

 

And now, he heard things from people. Something about an A.J.Crowley putting together a heist of some sort. Was the demon that desperate for the blessed water to risk himself again to steal it? Aziraphale couldn't believe it and yet, it was certainly something Crowley would do. 

 

The angel paced more around the room. The carpet had all since worn away from his fifteen years, six hours and forty-seven minutes of pacing. He finally came to a decision. As much as he hated it, as much as it hurt that should Crowley decide his damnation was too much, that their friendship wasn't enough, his decision could end up blowing up in his face. He walked to the table in the middle of the room.

 

He snapped his finger and conjured the best, most water-tight, tartan printed thermos full of ordinary water. You can't just miracle holy water into existence. It had to be blessed, and that was the next step. Once the water was holy, and the holiest he's ever made, he placed the cap on the container and just to be sure, tested the seal. He had to make sure that there was not one loose drop. No mistakes.

 

"Crowley, please don't make me regret giving this to you." He muttered to himself, trying to get a read on the location of his friend. He truly hoped the demon cherished their relationship as much as he did. He's just sorry it took so long to realize it himself

**Author's Note:**

> All fics are open to pod, translation, and fanart


End file.
